To Hold Infinity (41 page)

Ragged cheers rose from the crowd, as the vastly outnumbered proctors disappeared back indoors.

Drops fell, spattering Tetsuo's forehead.

A wave of movement passed through the crowd, jostling Tetsuo, but he kept hold of Dhana. Her hand felt small in his, cold but electric.

Overhead, dark thunderheads were gathering. Only the faintest green bled through, like the juices from crushed grass.

Tetsuo looked up.

“Storm's coming.”

This wasn't protection. This was house arrest.

Outside, Yoshiko's way was blocked by the worst of obstacles: a man twice her body weight, twice her strength. As highly trained as she was, but used to inflicting real and bloody damage on hard opponents. Ruthless, contemptuous of weaker beings.

Yoshiko had come across the type: the big psychopath who can take the discipline, who loves to cause pain. A bully who is most definitely not a coward.

She had no illusions. Guido would be as fast as her, but far stronger, harder, and more vicious.

“Maggie. Go out to the taxi. They won't stop you, on your own.”

“But—”

“Please. If I'm not out in five minutes, could you go to meet Eric and Felice?”

“Of course.” Maggie jammed her hands in her pockets, and frowned angrily. “We should contact Major Reilly. You're supposed to be under protection, not—”

Lavinia spoke weakly. “Yoshiko slipped away from their surveillance before. They want to keep track of her.”

Maggie stared. “You think TacCorps planted the smartatom bugs on Yoshiko?”

“It's consistent, isn't it?”

“Not Rafael?”

“Major Reilly as good as told us—Bugs dissolving under scan. Not the way
civilian
tech should work.”

“But Rafael—”

“Is to blame for—” Yoshiko glanced at Lavinia. “—what happened at the ball. But maybe not for editing the video-logs, for placing me under surveillance.”

“Bloody hell.”

Perhaps, too, Guido was under orders to intimidate Yoshiko, to make her crack, to spill everything she knew and guessed and feared. Mentally replaying her last conversation with Federico Gisanthro, she could see now the unresolved suspicion in his strange pale eyes, the hint of tension. He had known there was something Yoshiko was holding back.

A tidal rush of sound, her own blood circulation near her ears, overlaid her friends' conversation.

“Please go, Maggie.”

“I—OK. What are you going to do?”

“I don't know.”

Maggie left.

 

Was there nothing she could use as a weapon? Her naginata was at Lavinia's house. As for her tanto dagger—she'd given that to Eric on Ardua Station.

I'm scared.

She could visualize a big fist heading for her face—

OK.

Bigger and stronger. Contemptuous.

Think. Rethink.

Contempt—

Yes, I've got it now.

Rehearse. Consider all possible reactions.

“Yoshiko—” Lavinia, sounding far away.

She shut out her voice.

Important to keep the centre of gravity, the
hara
, as low as possible.

Yoshiko faced the door. Its surface rippled minutely, liquefied by her presence.

Now.

Guido, massive and frightening, glowered in front of her. His shoulders were the widest Yoshiko had ever seen.

“I told you—”

“No.”

She stepped forward, left hand raised to ward him off.

His grip encircled her small frail wrist like an iron bracelet, heavy and unbreakable.

She was so very, very scared.

Ippon seiken.

Tears blurred her vision.

Right fist, centre knuckle protruding.

“Please—” Her voice caught in her throat.

“Leave her—” Young Brian's voice, cut off by a thud.

Don't look.

A huge force jerked her forward by her left wrist.

“Please, don't—”

Big open-hand strike heading for her temple.

Tension in the thumb. Hold the configuration.

Her body was soft, her knees bent in collapse.

Collapsing, and the blow missed, but the other strong hand still encircled her wrist.

Huge hand. Wide. Callused knuckles, protruding veins, black hairs covering sinews and muscle. The sinews' lines. Blood vessels' blue ridges.

Minute awareness. Time slowed down.

Back hand swinging towards her face. No avoidance this time.

Down.

The back of his hand, holding her wrist. Sinews and veins a map, showing her the way.

Strike down.

“Eeee!”

Now.

A lifetime's discipline lay behind the blow.

Her knuckle smashed into the back of Guido's hand. It struck precisely into the nerve point known as TW-3 and Guido dropped like a stone.

He fell on one knee and the snapping sound was like a slap in the face, and then he was lying on his side, cheeks drained of pallor, and the breath was rattling gutturally in his throat.

“My…God.” It was young Brian, shaken, and ashen-faced.

“Are you all right?” asked Yoshiko.

“Yes—”

“I have to go.”

“I—yes, OK.” The other proctors were coming down the corridor, and Brian limped forward to meet them. He told them to let Yoshiko through.

“On Major Reilly's authority,” he added.

Yoshiko looked back. “That man needs medical attention.”

There were grim looks among the proctors, as one of them used her wrist terminal to summon help.

No one stopped Yoshiko as she pushed her way past them.

She was trembling in reaction, but forced herself to walk quickly to the main foyer. She paused briefly at the doors, remembering the
graser fire from last night, then steeled herself and walked straight through.

Her skin crawled, but nothing happened.

Maggie waved from a hovering taxi. Yoshiko went down the broad steps to meet it.

“Wait.” Brian's voice called from behind her. “I'm coming with you. Orders.”

Yoshiko said nothing, but let him catch up.

They slid onto the seat beside Maggie. Immediately the ground dropped away beneath them.

“What happened?” asked Maggie. “How did—?”

“It was unbelievable.” Brian stared at Yoshiko, awestruck.

The med-centre dwindled in size. Already, it looked like a child's toy.

“He saw only my weakness.” In memory, it was as though Yoshiko had struck without volition, just letting it happen. “Not his own.”

Cold and grey, the first wisps floated past, then storm clouds enveloped the taxi in darkness.

 

The vast atrium was eerily silent. Rows of glass display cases stood like military coffins, waiting to be shipped home.

“I don't like this.” Brian's voice was hushed.

In plan view, the conference centre was a linked series of overlapping circles, beneath the hovering wings of the levitating roof. Their taxi had passed over a huge growing crowd of people, a demonstration of some kind, and over the visitors and delegates flocking to the conference here, on the Skein/EveryWare issue.

“Don't worry.”

This part of the complex, obviously not booked for the conference, felt unsettling because of the contrast: empty, while thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people were milling around nearby. In here, dead silence.

“You shouldn't meet her alone.”

“Don't worry,” Yoshiko said again. “She wants to help. We can't risk frightening her off.”

“You should at least have let Maggie come with you.”

Yoshiko shook her head. “Someone had to meet Eric. And we're running late.”

“Well, I'm not going to risk arguing with you.” Brian gave a small, crooked smile. He took a black ring from his pocket, and proffered it. “Please take this. If you press the stud, I'll come running.”

Grateful for his concern, Yoshiko slipped the ring on.

“Thank you, Brian.”

“OK. It was auditorium three alpha, you said?” Using his wrist terminal, he pulled up a schematic of the conference centre. “It's up that way. I'll wait here for you.”

As she walked up a curved and sloping hallway, tension prickled Yoshiko's skin.

Had she truly understood Felice's oblique message? Was Tetsuo really still alive?

He's all right. Don't worry.

It was Ken's dear voice, and for a moment she could see his gentle smile.

Oh, Ken.

To feel his fingertips brush against her cheek once more—

By the sweeping doorway, a holo glowed:
3a
.

Yoshiko stepped through, into darkness.

 

“What's this?”

“Lower your head.” Dhana slipped the ring around his neck. “A present.”

All around them, a sea of people. Many thousands. Every now and then, a wave of motion would pass through the crowd, like a tidal force.

Dhana pressed a stud on the neck-ring. For a moment, everything blurred, and then Tetsuo could see clearly again.

“What is this?”

“A holo-mask. In case the proctors start observing.” A wicked smile formed across her gamine face. “Actually, that's quite an improvement. I've always liked blond men.”

“Very funny.” Tetsuo noticed her shiver slightly as he spoke. “What's wrong?”

“The lip-synch's a bit off. It's kind of scary.”

“Hush,” said someone. “Proctors're comin'.”

Tetsuo stood on tip-toe, using his height to see above the ocean of heads. Beyond the plaza, peacekeeper flyers were disgorging personnel whose jumpsuits were tuned to green, not dark blue.

“What's wrong?” Dhana held his arm and jumped up, trying to see.

“It's the TacCorps.”

 

Shadows hung like bats in the cavernous darkness. Low shapes ranged across a floor so soft that all echoes were absorbed.

“Please don't move.” The woman's voice played a glissando of fear down Yoshiko's spine.

Someone there.
She touched something and spun, stepped triangularly and spun again.

No one attacked.

A seat. She was in an auditorium and had brushed against a seat, that was all.

Copper sparkles in the blackness overhead. Smartatom mist.

“Don't worry.” Three metres above the floor, a cone of white light picked out Felice Lectinaria's haughty features. “I had to check for surveillance. I'm afraid your call-ring has been deactivated.”

As she spoke, Felice descended through the darkness, and Yoshiko realized she was on a lev-platform, used by speakers to point out features on giant holo illustrations.

“I have to know—” Yoshiko was breathless. “Is Tetsuo all right?”

“He was fine when I talked to him yesterday.”

“Oh, my God.” Yoshiko grabbed a nearby chair, and sat down on its arm. “Thank you.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't dare tell you more plainly, before now.” Felice's tone was brisk, though sympathetic. “May I ask whom the call-ring was intended to contact?”

“A friend.” Yoshiko looked up at her. “A trusted friend.”

“One needs trustworthy friends, that's for sure.” As the lev-platform alighted, Felice stepped off. “Many of mine are among the Shadow People.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You saw the demonstration outside? They're representatives of many septs—clans and tribes, if you like—of minorities who live at the edge of what we consider the habitable zones. And often beyond that edge.”

“I beg your pardon.” Yoshiko's heart was thumping hard. “I know nothing of Fulgidi politics. I just want to know where my son is.”

“He's with the Shadow People.”

“Here? You mean he's outside, right now?”

“Oh, yes. I can't speak for his political commitment, but he has at least one special friend out there with him.”

Yoshiko swallowed. “He's not under duress?”

“Absolutely not. And now, in return for that information—” Felice stopped, as though listening for something, then shook her head. “I want you to have this.”

She held out a blue crystal. Yoshiko looked at it without moving.

“It's a comms relay,” Felice continued. “A product of illegal research by TacCorps, using unauthorized copies of Tetsuo's ware.”

“Why—?”

“I'm about to go public in my support for the Shadow People. There are NewsNet reporters all over the other sections of the complex, where the conference is being held.”

Yoshiko accepted the crystal.

There was a scrape of sound, and she whirled, scanning the shadows.

“Don't worry.” Felice smiled grimly. “The lev-platforms touch each other sometimes.” She pointed to a group of disks suspended near the floor, like a giant child's mobile. “They frightened me at first.”

Yoshiko looked down at the crystal in her hand. “Will this show that Tetsuo had nothing to do with that poor man's death? Adam Farsteen, I mean.”

“No, but it's a start. A clone of Federico Gisanthro, a Luculentus, was interfaced with animal minds. Or rather, his mind was partially distributed across their brains, and you need mu-space comms to make that work, to remove the lightspeed delay.” Felice smiled grimly and added, “We can prove that. We can also prove that your son's ware was stolen to do that job. From there, it's a short step to—”

“Stop. Stop right there.” Yoshiko's thoughts whirled, and instinct told her to trust Felice. Rapidly, she said, “Rafael de la Vega has been infiltrating Luculenti minds—at least, Luculentae, female minds—and probably scanning them, absorbing them into his plexcore nexus.”